The Freak
by DeannaWinchester88
Summary: Thrown into a facility for freaks when he was child, Sam has had to endure the unimaginable. Tortured, beaten, and scarred, Sam continues to rebel against The Director and his nurses. When a new kid is thrown into the facility, the two lost souls take care of each other. They're all they have left. Or are they? hurt!Sam. hurt!Cas. awesome!Dean. Eventual SamxCas.
1. Chapter 1

"1249."

"I have a name."

"No...you don't! Freaks do not have names, 1249. They have IDs. Your kind do not deserve names. Rotten, filthy, disgusting creatures. You hurt people for your own pleasure. It is our job to deal with you lot. One freak at a time."

"You say that like you don't get a kick out of all this. Out of torturing us. Torturing kids. We're all just the same to you, aren't we? Is that how you treat anyone who doesn't fit your idea of normal, throw them in here regardless if they're a freak or not."

"It is a job that has to be done. Someone has to do it or there would be chaos."

"You are all in here for a reason, 1249. You of all people know that." She stated with a malicious smirk.

That quitened the man in the chair.

"I thought so." She paused. "Now, where were we? Oh yes, your powers."

"I don't have powers."

"All freaks have powers. Now what are yours, 1249."

The man in the chair remained silent.

Pressing numerous buttons on the console beside her, the woman's expression was that of exasperation as she flicked the switch.

"Gah!" The man gasped out in pain as he bucked in the chair he was bound to. Thick leather straps held his wrists, ankles and torso against the harsh, cold seat. Electric passed through pads in the wrist cuffs and two other electrode pads attached to each side of his forehead. His back arched from the seat as far as the strap around his middle would allow. His eyes were screwed closed as he bit his lip through the pain, now drawing blood as a small trickle fell down his chin.

"Let's try that again." She flicked the switch off. "What are your powers, 1249?"

The man took a couple of deep, painful breaths, physically shaking from exertion before answering. "Don't have any."

"Wrong!" She shouted. "You are a freak and all freaks have powers!" The woman flicked the switch again, this time turning a dial as she did.

"Gahhhhhhhhhh!" The man screamed. Tears were trickling down his cheeks now as he continued to buck and shake.

A door could be heard before another man walked in. The Director. He was a tall man with the build of someone well fed. Wearing a black suit with a blue handkerchief folded neatly in the pocket, he looked at the woman and the man in the chair before he walked over.

"Any luck, Miss Rowell?" His voice was deep yet sharp as he inspected the console, taking in the settings used to cause the man in the chair so much pain.

"It hasn't broken yet, but I know I can make it." She answered peppily.

"Good. See that you do. I don't need to remind you of your mortality and failures statistics."

"No, Sir." The woman shook her head quickly. "Absolutely not, Sir."

"Good. May I?" He asked, stepping up to the console.

"Of course, Sir." She nodded before backing away.

"What is it's ID number?"

"1249, Sir."

The Director pressed down the speak button on the console. "1249."

The man in the chair was still trying to get his breath back and fight through the pain from his last shocking. He briefly glanced at The Director before closing his eyes and leaning back against the top of the chair.

"1249. What are your powers?" He demanded.

More silence.

"1249! What are your powers?" The Director shouted.

The man in the chair's eyes narrowed, now struggling to hold onto consciousness. His hands could still be seen shaking from the shocks. "My name...is Sam!" He spat out.

The Director turned to the woman.

"It's a work in process." She answered quickly.

Turning back to the console, The Director twisted the dial up to its top setting before flicking the switch.

The electricity could be heard shocking and coursing through Sam as his screams echoed through the facility.

"Make him talk, or you're gone!" The Director threatened before walking out of the room.

"Yes, Sir." She acknowledged.


	2. Chapter 2

They practically had to scrape Sam up from the chair to dump him back in his cell. Everything hurt, and the shakes hadn't subsided. His throat was raw through screaming and he was pretty sure it would be almost non-existent if he tried to talk. Sam heard a small gasp before the door was slammed shut with an echoing crash. Footsteps became quieter and quieter before he felt hands gently holding his cheeks.

"Sam! Sam!..." Jess' soft voice called. She gently pushed back strands of hair behind his ear while lightly stroking his cheek with the thumb of her other hand.

"M'kay..." He weakly tried to reassure.

"No you're not." Jess shook her head. "Sam, you can't keep doing this. Just tell them what they want to hear and it's over. They'll stop."

"No..." He took in a painful breath. "No they won't...I don't have an answer for them anyway..."

Jess took in the sight of her cell mate. She knew that Sam had been at the facility for a long time before she had arrived. He'd never really given her anything on how he came to be in here, but she knew that he had been young. Sam was two years younger than her and so she'd always felt responsible for him, looking after him wherever she could. It was however his rebellious nature that worried her.

The facility didn't take well to those who didn't follow the rules and punished heavily those who broke them. She had never been subject to any of The Director's punishments, instead only having been through their testing. She couldn't imagine what Sam had been through in the time he had been here, and a part of her didn't want to.

"Oh, sweetie..." She cood, casting a hand through his soft brown hair comfortingly.

Sam weakly tried to sit up, but failed miserably. He flopped back down to the floor, every muscle flaring up in fiery pain.

Jess placed a hand gently on his back, feeling the tension leave his back as he stopped attempting to get up under her touch. "It's okay...just sleep, sweetie. Just sleep..." She watched as Sam's eyes flickered before closing. "We can get through this." She whispered.

Maybe.

* * *

The sounds of clinks awoke him.

"Jess?" He murmured sleepily.

"Sam!" Jess screamed in response.

Sam's eyes flew open in time to see Jess being dragged from the cell, kicking and screaming against the guard's hold on her. "Jess!"

"Sam, help me!" Tears fell down her cheeks as she begged Sam to help her.

Getting to his feet in seconds, Sam landed a punch across the face of one of the guards stood in front of the cell. He followed it with a kick causing the guard to drop to the floor. Hurdling over him, Sam began to sprint down the corridor after Jess.

Glancing back a few times to see if he had evaded the guards, Sam was reminded that he was still running as he smacked into something. Someone to be precise.

"Woah." The man began to take in Sam, looking him over. He immediately noticed the look of fear in Sam's eyes. "You okay?" The placed a hand on Sam's arm, but Sam pulled away from his touch and sprinted off. "Hey!" He shouted after him.

But Sam just kept running and running. He had to find Jess.

Reaching the end of the corridor, Sam turned the corner to find himself surrounded by guards.

"Shit!" Sam cussed before taking a couple of deep breaths. He then proceeded to land a punch on the first guard, knocking him off balance and giving himself enough precious seconds to slip down the middle of the rest and run. His speed wasn't great after their various methods of trying to make him talk, but it was a pace, and that was all that mattered.

And then a fire erupted in his chest.

"Gah!" He moaned, placing a hand to the source of the fire, his hand immediately coming away a deep shade of red as blood flowed from the wound. Sam found himself tumbling to the ground as his legs turned to jelly, unable to support him any longer.

Catching him, a guard grabbed each arm while the one he had punched landed one hard across his face. The other two guards then dropped him harshly to the tiled floor of the facility corridor before then proceeding to kick him over and over until he was curled up with his legs tucked against his stomach to try and defend against their blows, his blood staining the filthy white of his scrappy shirt.

"Get him up!" The Director's voice ordered sternly.

Sam found himself being yanked up by a hand that was gripping the back of his neck. He moaned slightly in pain as he struggled against the grip, knowing in the back of his mind however that it was hopeless. "What have you done to Jess? Where...where have you taken her?"

"That doesn't concern you, freak!" The Director answered. "But maybe you could even answer some of our questions, seeing as you are yet to give us a single straight answer when told to."

"Screw you!" Sam cussed in rebellion with narrow eyes before spitting a mouthful of blood at The Director.

The guards gasped, waiting for The Director's response.

The Director took the folded handkerchief from his pocket and opened it out. He then wiped away the blood that had sprayed on his face before his eyes found Sam's once again. Reaching out a hand, he placed it tightly around Sam's neck, crushing his windpipe.

Sam gasped as he fought for air.

"You little shit!" He growled. "You are nothing more than an ant and I can make your lights go out faster than you could ever imagine."The Director paused. "Squish!"

Sam's hands clawed weakly as those of The Director's.

"What's that?" He mocked. "Sorry, I can't hear you." He laughed before releasing his grip. The Director then turned to the guards. "Is it a runner?"

"Yes, Sir."

Sam's eyes widened. "No! No, I wasn't running!" He begged.

Everyone knew what happened to runners.

"Take it to the room and stitch up that bullet wound, I'll be there shortly."

"Yes, Sir."

"No!" Sam continued to scream. "Nooooo!"

As a punch landed across his face, knocking him into unconscious, Sam sagged in the arms of the guards.

* * *

Flickering his eyes open, Sam felt groggy. The dryness in his throat was highly unpleasant, and the lights blaring down upon him from the ceiling seemed far too bright. "Gah..." He moaned softly, as the now stitched up wound in his chest throbbed. He was back in the chair and bound to it. The strap around his forehead however had not been fastened.

"You're awake...Good." The Director's voice spoke through the haze. "We do not tolerate those who do not follow our rules. And when these rules are broken, there will _always_ be consequences. This is yours." As he stepped to the side, Sam's eyes widened.

There lying on the one of the metal medical tables, was Jess. Both arms and legs strapped down to the table, four buckets were positioned on the floor below her to the collect the blood slowly trickling from her slit wrists and ankles. Her head lay facing Sam, allowing him to see the dark red that was staining her skin and the table below her from the neat slice across her neck. Jess' closed eyes could also be seen through the messy, long blonde hair that had fallen over her face in places.

"No..." Sam whimpered, tears coming to his eyes.

"We warned you what would happen if you didn't co-operate, 1249." The Director stated. "We do not tolerate those who do not follow our rules. This is your punishment, 1249. And all of this could have been avoided if you had of just answered our questions." He walked closer. "Your freak friend would be alive right now if you had've co-operated with us. You see, 1249, you did this. This was all you."

"No..." Sam shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks as he couldn't bring his eyes to leave the sight of Jess lying dead on the table.

"Yes!" The Director grabbed his chin in a tight grip and forced Sam to catch his gaze. "You killed her." He then produced a bloody knife and showed it to Sam, making sure he could see it. The Director then proceeded to wipe the blood from the blade onto the palms and fingers of his hands.

Sam whimpered as he attempted to squirm away from Jess' blood on the blade. But he couldn't.

"Her blood is on your hands, 1249."

"No..." His weak voice mumbled before his breath became heavier. "Nooooooo!" He screamed in desperational sadness and grief.

As he did so, the lights began to swing from side to side before the glass bulbs, windows, and beakers shattered around him. The room was plunged into darkness as Sam gasped.

The emergency lights flooded the room with light a few seconds later.

"Very good, 1249. See...a little push was all you needed to be the freak that you know you are. Try convincing yourself that you're not one now." The Director mocked with a smirk before turning to the guards. "Take him back to his cell."

"No!" Sam bucked as the guards approached him and began undoing the bindings of the chair. "Get off me!" He fought. "Jess! Jess!" He screamed.

A nurse walked over at the call of one of the guards, needle in hand.

"No! No! Jess! Jess!" He continued to scream as he tried to reach her. The prick in his arm followed before he found himself falling into the darkness once again. "Jess..." He weakly mumbled.

_"It's okay...just sleep, sweetie. Just sleep..." She comforted with a smile._

And then he fell.

* * *

Sneaking out a back door of the hospital, the man was shaking as he slowly pulled him phone from his pocket. Fumbling slightly as he dialled a number, he held the phone to his ear and took a deep breath.

"Hello?"

"Dad."

"Dean, what happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Dad, I'm not hurt..."

"Then what is it? Is someone after you?"

"No, Dad...just listen, alright?"

"Okay."

Dean couldn't believe what he was about to say. "It's Sam, Dad...I think I've found him."


	3. Chapter 3

Thrown back into his cell, Sam ignored the throbbing pain from the jarring of his stitches and instead shuffled back against the wall, bringing his knees up to his chest and burying his head amongst them as he sobbed.

A light sound could be heard from the other side of the cell.

Sam looked up in an instant to see a kid with messy black hair staring at him.

The kid gasped when Sam met his gaze and quickly looked away.

But Sam didn't care. He couldn't care. The facility had replaced her already. But not to him. He would never replace her, and he could fuck off if he tried to.

Tears prickling his eyes once again, Sam lowered his head and cried.

* * *

Sam awoke the next morning to find himself lying down. Maybe he'd fallen. His stitches would probably be a little worse for wear if he had though. Flickering his eyes open, the new kid was already awake and sat up against the wall on the other side of the cell. Slowly putting a hand to the floor, he gingerly pushed himself up, cursing slightly as he did, before he too was upright. As he moved his hand, Sam noticed the red hand mark left behind.

Eyes widening, Sam looked down at his hands and gasped. Jess' blood was still all over his hands from where The Director had smeared it on yesterday. Sam instantly began trying to scrub it away, using more and more pressure each time. But it remained. And so he tried again and again and again, until his hands turned dark red and the skin flaked in some places. Sam lowered his head as he began to shake in sadness and grief. Jess was dead because of him. Because he didn't cooperate. It was all his fault. Her blood was on his hands, and they weren't ever getting clean.

It was then that two soft hands gently took his.

Sam looked up, tears in his eyes, to see the messy haired kid knelt down in front of him with a sympathetic expression on his face.

"It won't come off..." Sam explained in a weak tone.

The kid nodded before closing his eyes. As he did, the blood from Sam's hands slowly disappeared.

Sam gasped. "How did you?..."

The messy haired kid then shuffled backwards away from him.

"Hey!" His tone rose slightly as he grabbed the kid's arm, halting him.

It was his turn to gasp as he tried to avoid Sam's eyes.

Sam immediately released his grip from the messy haired kid's arm, seeing the fear that was washing over him before slowly reaching out a hand towards the new kid to try and reassure him that he meant no harm. "I'm not gonna' hurt you." He paused. "Okay?"

The kid nodded, bringing his gaze slowly up to find Sam's.

"You got a name?"

"2658." He answered.

"No, no, your real name." Sam corrected. "I'm Sam."

"Castiel."

Sam smiled. "Castiel. Cool name." Sam paused for a few seconds. "Thank you."

Castiel smiled and nodded. "You're welcome, and you can call me Cas if you wish."

Footsteps approached causing Cas to quickly shuffle back across the floor to his side of the cell.

Unlocking the metal door, a guard stepped in and offered an expression that said 'Don't even think about running' to both Sam and Cas. Two plates of watery grul in his hand, he threw one down beside Cas, before turning to Sam.

"1249, we can do this the easy way or the hard way." He stated.

Sam simply ignored him.

"Fine." The door slammed shut and footsteps could be heard walking off down the corridor.

Glancing across the cell, he noticed Cas looking him over. Sam noted that he had made no attempt to retrieve the plate of gruel thrown down for him.

"You're very skinny." Cas stated.

"They like to keep you that way." Sam answered.

"Not this skinny. You're not eating, why?"

"I'm not gonna' be some little lab rat for them."

"You should eat something."

Sam scoffed. "Did you not hear what I just said?"

"They're gonna' get angry." Cas stated.

"Then let them." Sam answered.

"You're gonna' get hurt." His tone sounded as if it was laced with worry. But why would it be? Why would Cas care about him?

"It won't be the first time." Sam bluntly replied, leading to a silence that swamped the cell for a few minutes until Sam eventually broke it. "So what are you?"

He seemed to be mentally debating himself about something before Cas took a deep breath and found Sam's gaze once again. "I'm an angel."

"An angel!" Sam exclaimed in amazement.

Cas nodded before a smile appeared and he closed his eyes. It was then that a pair of wings rose out from under his dirty white t-shirt and fluttered as they were freed from their previous constriction.

"Woah!" Sam's eyes widened as he crossed the cell to take a better look at Cas' ink black wings. The feathers blew softly in the slight draft from the corridor. He glanced at Cas to seek permission before slowly reaching out after he nodded. Sam gently stroked the back of his hand down a couple of the feathers, smiling at just how soft they were to the touch. He then turned back to Cas. "Is this why you're in here?"

Cas nodded. "I'm a freak."

Sam shook his head. "I'm a freak...you are beautiful."

"They'll take my wings away...won't they?" Cas asked sadly.

Sam sighed. "Probably. They're monsters, they'll do anything to get their own way." He paused. "Will they grow back?"

"Slowly." Cas answered.

Sam smiled, thankful that the monsters of the facility would never be able to permanently damage Cas' magnificent wings. "Will it hurt?"

Witnessing Cas shudder, Sam dreaded the answer that he knew was coming.

"Yes..." Came a weak reply.

"I won't let them hurt you."

Cas' head lowered.

"Hey..." Sam spoke softly, placing a hand on Cas' cheek and lifting it gently so that he was looking at him. "I won't...okay?"

Cas nodded.

* * *

Later that night, Cas was awoken by the sound of pained whimpers. Flickering his eyes open, he saw Sam lying on the floor with his arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. His whole body was shaking and his expression was that of sheer pain.

"Sam!" Cas exclaimed as he crawled across the floor to him in an instant and knelt down beside him. "Sam, what's wrong?"

All Cas got in response were more pained whimpers. Something was wrong, and he knew it.

Looking up and around at the corridors through the bars of the cell, Cas soon noticed a guard stood at the far end. "Hey!" He shouted. "Hey! I need help! Please, I need help!"

The guard glanced at him a few times, obviously debating whether or not to actually bother walking over, but then eventually did. Standing by the door of the cell, he looked down at its two inhabitants.

"What's wrong with it?"

"He hasn't eaten in a while, and I think it's hurting him. He needs food, please..."

The guard pulled out a radio and began calling someone. They exchanged conversation for a few seconds before he turned back to the cell and clicked the door open. "Get back, now." The guard stated sternly.

Cas gently laid Sam on the floor before moving away slowly.

Another guard walked over and the two of them proceeded to harshly grab Sam under the arms and drag him out of the cell.

Cas was by the bars in an instant after the door was slammed shut as he watched Sam being dragged off down the corridor, praying that he had done the right thing.

* * *

Sam tried to fight the nurse as she attempted to strap him into the chair, but she soon managed to get his wrist down and that pretty much meant game over. His body was too weak from lack of food to really fight back. The chair was different to that of the one in the interrogation room in the fact that the back was reclined and has less machines surrounding it.

Sam's eyes darted around the room in panic as he desperately tried to squirm free.

"Please...please..." He begged in a pathetic tone.

The nurse continued to ignore him as she slammed his head back against the headrest, holding it there as she placed the strap across, fully securing him to the chair. Another nurse walked over.

"Proceed." Came The Director's voice from behind the viewing window.

"Hold it's nose." One of the nurses instructed.

Fingers tightly squeezed his nose. Sam fought to keep his mouth clamped shut, but he knew it was useless. Needing to breathe, Sam's mouth flew open. Before he could even attempt to draw in a breath, the nurse began to feed the tube into his mouth and down his throat.

The pain was agonising as he gagged and bucked in the chair, tears running down his cheeks as he whimpered.

"Swallow!" The nurse shouted.

Sam ignored her, trying to hold on to the last whisps of his willpower.

"1249, swallow!" She shouted once again.

He still refused.

"Fine." The nurse answered before shoving the tube with as much force as possible.

Sam bucked so high from the chair that the other nurse had to move forward and once again resume holding him down. His whimpers heightened and he was practically shaking as the pain became worse and worse.

"This is what happens when you don't co-operate, 1249." The Director stated.

The other nurse then carried over a funnel and a large cup. Placing the funnel on the end of the tubing, the first nurse held it in place while the other poured the contents of the cup.

The sensation was strange and painful, making Sam dig his fingernails into the arms of the chair as it grew and grew.

Once the cup was empty, the nurses waited for a few seconds before yanking out the tube from his throat. They then removed the plastic piece and the gag before turning to The Director.

"Thank you, ladies." He acknowledged before walking out from the viewing window and over to Sam. "If you don't follow our rules, we can make life very difficult, 1249. So, we'll see you in twelve hours." The Director turned. "Guards. Take it back to it's cell."

Sam could feel his straps being removed before he was dragged off once again.

* * *

The sound of footsteps caused Cas' head to shoot up in an instant. In a few seconds, the door was opened and Sam was thrown back inside.

The guard in which he had shouted for earlier turned to him. "I'll be back for it in twelve hours. I advise you to not cause a fuss or you'll be joining it in the chair."

"The chair?" Cas furrowed an eyebrow.

The guard smirked. "We have a way of forcing freaks to eat."

Cas' eyes widened in horror as he watched the guards leave, slamming the door behind them. Rushing over to his cell mate, Cas knelt down beside him and gathered him into his arms once again. Shaking and drenched in sweat, Cas also didn't like the sound of Sam wheezing with every breath he took. Sam was pale and his expression was pained. "Sam...Sam..." He coaxed softly.

Sam's pained eyes fluttered open slightly.

"Sam?"

Sam smiled gently up at him.

Cas smiled too at the sight of his friend. Dragging them both back over to the wall, Cas was careful not to cause Sam anymore pain before he propped them both up against it for support. Sam's head flopped onto his shoulder, eyes closed in sleep or unconsciousness.

"I'll protect you, Sam. I promise."


	4. Chapter 4

The bars of the cell rattling brought Cas round. Flickering his eyes open, they immediately fell to one of the guards was walking inside.

"Wakey, wakey!" He shouted.

Cas felt Sam jump beside him and gently laid a hand on his arm to offer whatever comfort he could.

"I have food for you." The guard dropped the bowl to the floor, the watery porridge splattering onto the concrete slightly. "And an appointment with the chair for my favourite little freak." He mocked with a grin.

Sam tensed instantly as he began to whimper. "No, no, please!"

The guard grabbed Sam and pulled him to his feet so hard that Cas was sure he would break.

"Gah..." Sam moaned lightly in pain, hand going to the arm in which the guard had yanked him up with.

"Leave him alone!" Cas shouted, trying to shove the guard away from Sam. All his efforts earned him though were a beefy arm slamming him backwards against the wall of the cell, his head striking the stone hard. He winced as a hand went to the spot of impact finding blood.

"Let's go." The guard pulled Sam from the cell, locking it behind him and dragged him off down the corridor.

"Sam!" Cas screamed before punching the bars in anger.

* * *

"Welcome back, 1249." The Director greeted with a malicious smile as he was pulled into the room.

Sam was still fighting the grip of the guard, and the sight of the chair only gave more strength to his efforts. As the guard turned to look at The Director for his orders, Sam took the opportunity and aimed a kick up into his crotch, causing him to double over. Not wasting a second, Sam sprinted off out of the room and down the corridor.

He needed a plan, but his brain still seemed to be fried from the nice dose of electroshock they had given him a few days ago. Sam could hear footsteps now and he knew that his efforts were feeble. The facility had CCTV cameras down every corridor, they knew exactly where he was. It wasn't about escaping, or even attempting to because Sam knew they were pipedreams, running away from treatments over and over and over were his own say of revolution. Of showing those ass-hats that they didn't control him, and that they never would.

Turning the corner, Sam ran into the chest of one of the guards. He didn't even have time to gasp before arms grabbed him and a needle stuck into his neck. His body began to feel sluggish before the guard's hold on him tightened as his limbs became floppy. "No..." He slurred weakly before he was being pulled down the corridor. Sam was just with it enough to notice that they'd passed the room which housed 'the chair', instead they were heading for another room.

As Sam's eyes caught sight of the room's number, he doubled his efforts to try and free himself, despite knowing they were useless.

This wasn't the first time they'd dragged him into that room. Sam couldn't even put a number to the amount of times over the years he had been placed in that room for numerous different treatments, each more horrific then the last.

Opening the door, the guard pulled him inside before dropping him down onto one of the tables.

"Please..." Sam attempted, sluggishly before hearing tutting.

"1249...what are we going to do with you?" The Director asked as he walked closer. "It's as if you're just determined to give me a reason to punish you." He smiled. "Well don't worry, I'm sure you'll love this next one."

A nurse walked up to the table. She positioned him so that he was lying with his arms by his side and his legs out straight.

"You've done this many times before, Sam." The Director stated. "But I'll play ball, just because I can. "That sedative will make sure you behave until we're finished."

The nurse next picked up a needle and some tube from the trolley and set up an IV. She thread the needle into the skin of his wrist before attaching the tube to the bag, and then the needle. "To keep you hydrated." The nurse then picked up another IV port and thread that one into the skin of his other wrist.

"What are you?..." Sam began but was cut off as the nurse began injecting something into the port.

"You'll see."

It took only a few seconds before Sam began to feel the effects of the drug. He sank into the seat as he became boneless. He couldn't move, he couldn't blink, even breathing was becoming a struggle.

"Let's get it medicated and then intubate it." The Director stated.

'No!' Sam screamed internally.

"We have ways of making your life hell. Refuse to cooperate, and you get punished. Try and rebel against us, and you get punished. This 1249 is what we do best, and there's only so long that you can keep up that determined attitude you have going."

The nurse strapped down his ankles, wrists, and head before pulling a large leather strap against his chest too. It seemed a little pointless in his current state as there was no way he was moving anytime soon due to the effects of the paralytic. She then grabbed another syringe and injected that into the port too.

"That should numb your brain until it's all mushy and useless, just how we want you." The Director explained. "We had an brainwave. Instead of trying to constantly keep you under control, and having to deal with the times in which you do manage to get away from us, why take the risk? So from now on, we're going to keep you just like this, 1249. Nice and docile. So everyday we'll sedate you in your cell and put you in the chair. You'll get your food, and then you'll get your medication to keep your brain all muddled. And this time if you try anything, we'll take your little friend and do the same to him too." The Director threatened. "That is after we rip every last one of those pretty feathers from his back."

A machine was wheeled over beside the table before two nurses appeared in Sam's limited view once again. One started to hook him up to the machine that began to beep as soon as the clip was placed on the end of one of his fingers. The other placed a metal device into his mouth before she began to push a tube down his throat. He couldn't even gag due to the paralytic, but tears still trickled down his cheeks.

By time the tube was in place, Sam could no longer breathe. The drug was just too strong. His body was crying out for air as the nurse plugged the tube in the other machine. As the switch flipped, air began to stream down the tube inflating and deflating his lungs artificially. Sam was also beginning to feel the effects of the mind-numbing drug he had been administered as his brain struggled to even put together the simplest strands of thoughts.

"Are you having fun yet?" The Director laughed. "Goodnight, 1249."

Another trolley was wheeled over.

Items were lifted from it before rubber ear plugs were stuffed into his ears and a blindfold was pulled across his eyes. His head was lifted from the table as the blindfold was tied before be laid down once again.

**Everything was dark. Everything was silent. Everything was numb. Everything was blank.**


	5. Chapter 5

As the light assaulted him, he screwed his eyes shut in pain. The fact that he was able to do so told him that the paralytic must have worn off.

Noise was next. The sounds of the machines whirring returned to his ears before the nurse telling him to cough.

He did.

The tube in his throat was pulled out in two yanks and he found breathing impossible on the first few tries until he got back into the swing of it.

He felt blank. He felt calm.

"My god, you've actually managed to break it. It's practically a drooling mess." He heard one of the guards comment from across the room.

"Nah, it's always like this after we do this to it. It's been paralysed, drugged, intubated, and sensory deprived for two days. How would you be after that long?" A nurse replied.

Two days. He'd been like that for two days.

His hands, ankles, and stomach were released from the straps holding him down before the middle strap was removed too.

The IV and the port were removed from his arm and the clip from his finger went too.

The guards walked over and lifted him from the table before lowering him down the floor slowly, giving his weak legs a chance to find whatever footing they could, like a newborn fawn.

Sam was led down the white corridor to the room which housed the chair. The guard placed him into the chair, not bothering with the straps, before stepping back and allowing the nurse to get to work. Picking up a thin length of tube she began to thread it down Sam's nose.

"Swallow."

He did.

Once the tube was in place she taped it to his cheek with medical tape before grabbing a syringe filled with a pink coloured liquid and injecting it into the tube.

The feeling was peculiar as the liquid travelled down to his stomach.

The guard then pulled him up from the chair and supported his almost dead weight back to his cell.

Cas' eyes widened as they came into view. Stepping back from the bars as the guard unlocked the cell, Sam was placed down on the floor before the guard left. The cell was then locked again and they were left alone.

"Sam?"

Cas could hardly believe his eyes as he took in the sight before him. Sam's eyes were lifeless and dull as he stared off into nowhere. His limbs were almost like jelly as he lay on the floor, and an NG tube had been inserted in his nose. Cas could also see the reddened marks on his throat, and the obvious signs of where the cuffs had secured him down on his wrists and ankles.

"Oh my god." He cursed before closing the gap between him and his friend. "What did they do to you?" Cas asked rhetorically, knowing he wouldn't be getting an answer anytime soon.

Gathering Sam up, Cas rested him so that his head with in lap. Stroking a hand through Sam's hair, he took his friend's hand in his own and squeezed it gently. "It's okay. It's all gonna' be okay. Come back to me...please..." Cas begged quietly, a tear trickling down his cheek. "I need you to come back to me." He held Sam a little tighter. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Sniffling, Cas traced a finger down the NG tube on his cheek.

"You stupid..." He began angrily before cutting himself. "...why didn't you eat?" His tone lost all anger as it became emotional once again. "You can't go on like this. You can't keep up this rebellion, it's going to kill you, and I won't sit idly by and watch them do this to you because of your own stupidity. You have to stop because I don't want to watch them hurt you anymore than they already have." Cas paused as he choked on a sob. "I am scared, more than I ever was being dragged into here, and that's because I'm terrified of what torturous act or treatment they'll carry out on you next. I am scared because every single time you try and defy them, you get hurt. You're not invincible, Sam. You're only human, and not matter how resilient you may think you are, you can still be broken, and I'll be damned if I let that happen to you. Do you hear me?" Cas' tone rose. "Don't you dare go breaking on me, because your death would only deal the same blow to me." He paused once again. "We are going to get out of here. We will be free of this prison of pain and fear one day. But until that day comes, I will protect you. I've done a crappy job of it so far, but I promise that I will protect you, even if that's from yourself. Now come back to me."

A light groan could be heard.

"Hey!" Cas spoke softly as he squeezed Sam's hand once again. "That's it, I'm right here, Sam. Come back to me."

Life soon returned to Sam's eyes as they moved around the cell before resting on Cas.

"Welcome back." Cas smiled.

Sam tried to move.

"Easy, easy." Cas spoke softly, dragging them both back against the wall of the cell, like he had done two nights prior. Freeing his wings, Cas carefully wrapped them around Sam, shuffling him closer, before throwing an arm around Sam's shoulders and pulling him against his side. Sam bonelessly slumped against him, his eyes barely open as he held onto consciousness by a thread. Using his wing to help keep Sam upright, Cas gently began to stroke his arm in comfort with the soft black feathers. Cas could feel the tension in Sam's shoulders dissipate as he slowly began to relax.

"I'm so sorry..." Cas apologised in a tearful tone.

"Why?..." Sam asked in the strongest tone he could muster, which didn't actually carry that much strength. There was surprise in his tone, as if he hadn't expected any words to be audible at all.

"If I hadn't've called for the guards, they wouldn't have done any of that to you."

"It's...it's not your fault, Cas..." Sam tried to reassure.

"What did they do to you?" Cas asked. He needed to know.

"Sedated me. Dragged me to some room down the corridor then strapped me down to some medical table. They wanted me docile and that's what they got. I had an IV, and they were monitoring my heart. They injected me with a paralytic so strong that I couldn't breath, and this mind-numbing drug that made my head all fuzzy, and then..."

Cas could feel Sam shaking in his grasp. "Hey..." He began softly. "It's okay, it's okay."

"...and then they intubated me. I couldn't breathe so they had a ventilator breathing for me. And then they put a blindfold on me, stuffed some ear plugs into my ears and left like that for two days." A sob came from Sam's throat before he broke down in tears.

Cas gathered him up tighter in his arms, stroking a hand down his back. "You're okay. You're okay, Sam."

"It's not okay, Cas. It's never going to be okay." Sam stated.

"Then don't fight them."

"Cas, I can't..."

"Yes you can, you just stop." Cas replied. "Stop pissing them off, stop antagonising them, stop giving them a reason to punish you." He paused. "I have been here a week and a half now and they have done nothing but attach electrodes to my forehead and chest and measure brain activity. I have eaten the food they have provided, I have not screamed or thrown abuse at them, I have not attacked any of the guards or nurses. That's the trade off, Sam. You can either stop this rebellion that is going to get you killed and live as easy of life as you can in this shithole, or you can continue down the road you're going and end up in a body bag. It's your choice."

"Why do you care?" Sam's weak tone spoke up.

"What?"

"Why do you care so much?" He repeated. "I'm not your problem. Why do you give a shit? I'm only going to get you hurt one of these days. You should hate me." Sam stated.

"I don't hate you. And I care about you because you're my friend." Cas answered. "I just want you to be safe."

The two sat in silence for a few minutes before Cas spoke up once again.

"You were wrong you know..."

"'Bout what?..."

"When you said that you were the freak rather than me." He paused. "You're beautiful, Sam." Cas lifted a hand and tucked a strand of loose hanging hair behind Sam's ear. "In more ways than one." Taking Sam's hand in his, their fingers intertwined.

Sam looked up at Cas before a gentle smile appeared on his face and he leaned closer, Cas doing the same until their lips met. The kiss lasted for a few wonderful seconds before Cas felt Sam's head limply fall to his chest, his strength exhausted.

"'m sorry..." Sam weakly mumbled, clearly embarrassed by his fragility.

Cas shook his head as he gently stroked a hand through Sam's disheveled brown hair, holding him against his chest in comfort with an arm around his back. "You have nothing to apologise for." He paused. "Get some sleep, I'll be here when you wake up."

Sam nodded before falling asleep a few seconds later.

Cas smiled softly before pressing a kiss to the top of Sam's head and rested his chin on it. "Goodnight, Sam."


	6. Chapter 6

The corridors of the facility were silent and guard-less. Cas gazed out at the endless white that seemed to stretch on infinitely around their cell. He knew that there must be others like them in the facility, but he had yet to encounter any. Their cell seemed to be isolated from any others than may exist. He knew that Sam hadn't been alone during his time in the facility, and he was sure that the blood on his friend's hands the other night day had been from one of Sam's previous cellmates. Sam had been distraught when they had dragged him back into the cell, kicking and screaming before just becoming numb, almost a mirror of his current state. Sam had lost someone that he'd cared about, and no doubt it was the facility's doing. The Director's obsession with Sam was perplexing. He understood the punishments that came from Sam's rebellion but Cas didn't know whether he had just become the favourite pet of The Director because of the length of time in which he'd be here, or whether they were just sick and did it for fun. Maybe it was just a bit of both.

"Guh..." Sam whimpered lightly.

"Hey..." Cas began softly, ducking his head down to take a better look at Sam. "You okay?"

"Cramp."

"The medication is gonna' do that until you get used to it." Cas gently began to stroke Sam's arm. "Did they say they were gonna' keep you on that stuff?"

Sam nodded.

"Great." Cas sighed, dryly before pulling Sam tighter against his chest. "I have a question."

"Go ahead." Sam answered, eyes remaining closed as he kept his head rested against Cas' chest.

"How many others have you seen?"

"There used to be more. I'd see a bunch of them every time they'd drag me off for treatment. I've had a few brief cellmates through the years. They all ended up being taken away to god knows where, but Jess was my main one." His voice faltered at that last part.

"Why brief?"

"Some of the people that used to be in here, they were bat-shit crazy. I remember being more scared to be put back in the cell than I was in the treatment room. It only took a few days each time before they'd start attacking me. The guards would know of course, they just didn't care. They'd purposely leave me in there for three or four days, sometimes a week before they told The Director and they were taken away." Sam explained. "So when they brought Jess in, I was petrified at first, and then she noticed me shaking and asked me what was wrong. I told her about my previous cellmates and the look on her face was just that of horror. From then on she took care of me, and she did for five years until they murdered her."

"Do you think there are any more?"

"I haven't seen anyone else in a very long time. Every single time I've escaped it's just been corridor after empty corridor. We might be the only ones." Sam answered.

"That's not worrying at all."

"Thank you." Sam spoke up.

Cas furrowed an eyebrow. "For what?"

"Looking after me last night. I was so out of it after what they did to me, it was a feeling that I'd never experienced before." Sam explained.

"Do you remember anything else?" Cas asked.

Sam smiled softly. "Of course. How could I forget?" Leaning up, he pecked Cas on the cheek before resting his head back against the angel's chest.

Cas began to stroke a hand through Sam's hair with a smile. "I'm glad."

"They said they were gonna' come back for me. To feed me again." The worry was clear in Sam's tone.

"Maybe if you tell them you'll eat, they'll stop." Cas suggested.

"Doesn't work like that. I've pissed them off too much, and this is easier for them 'cause they can make sure I'm eating and cause me discomfort at the same time, it's a win win situation whichever way they look at it."

"Animals." Cas offered Sam a squeeze in his arms.

Sam smiled.

"If you're hungry, you have to tell me, alright?" Cas stated firmly, I'll share."

"I can't take your food, Cas." Sam replied.

"If eating a little less means that you don't die of malnutrition, then I'm okay with that."

"They're not gonna' let me die of malnutrition, it's far too much fun to torture me." Sam joked with no hint of humour in his tone.

Cas paused for a few seconds. "Sam...be careful...please..."

"I'll try."

"No." Cas began abruptly. "No _trying_, you stop this rebellion and you take care of yourself."

"I can't just sit here and let them treat me like some monster. I have been in this hell hole for eleven years! For eleven years I have been the subject of their torture, and their treatments. Eleven years of being beaten, shocked, starved, sliced, and abused. I have never had hope of getting out of his because even if I did, there is nothing waiting for me our there, they made sure of that."

"Sam..." Cas began softly.

"Don't...just...don't, Cas..."


	7. Chapter 7

Sam became aware of his surroundings at the sound of footsteps at the far end of the corridor. Fully awake in seconds, he gently shook Cas, who he was wrapped in the arms of until the angel stirred.

"Cas..." He spoke softly. "Hey...you need to hide your wings before the guards come..." Sam wasn't going to give the heartless pigs the entertainment of hurting his friend.

Cas nodded against Sam's chest, his wings retracting back so that they were once again hidden inside the dirty white t-shirt.

Sam sat upright, Cas doing the same.

The metallic twang of something being ran along the metal bars of the cells began to echo through before a guard came into view.

"Boys..." The guard smiled cruely. "Are you just the luckiest ducks in the facility?"

Sam didn't reply, not liking where this was going.

"The Director has changed your status."

"From what, rat to bug?" He mocked.

"Close." The guard smirked. "Lab rat."

Sam's eyes widened.

Cas, confused by the sudden fear visible in Sam's expression, reached a hand out and found his friends.

"Say goodbye to your cell, we have a table all ready and waiting for you in the lab."

"No!" Sam shook his head. "No, no, please..."

The guard unlocked the cell door, another two appearing behind him before they walked inside and took hold of Sam, dragging him off.

"Sam!" Cas screamed.

"Oh don't worry, you're coming too, angel boy." The last guard stated before grabbing him.

* * *

'Guh...When did they knock me out?' Sam thought as he found himself coming to. The metal table he was lying on was cold and the lighting of the lab was harsh as it shone down on him. Strapped to it with equally harsh leather straps, Sam bucked against his restraints.

A slap across his face stopped his efforts.

"There's no point in struggling, 1249."

"My name is Sam..." He stated angrily through gritted teeth.

Picking up a vial, the nurse filled the syringe with the clear liquid before jabbing it into Sam's thigh.

"What was that?" Sam asked.

"You'll see." The nurse answered before grinning.

In a few seconds all became apparent. Sam's head lolled to the side as the paralytic kicked in. The sensation was familiar. The nurse began to collect various instruments before walking back over to the table wheeling a metal trolley ladened with equipment. "Ready when you are Doctor Hertz." She stated.

"Thank you, nurse." The doctor's low, gruff voice replied before coming into Sam's restrained view. "You're a lucky monster, 1249. Not everyone gets this privilege so you should be thanking us."

Sam would have furrowed an eyebrow in confusion if he was able to move any part of his body.

"Right, nurse?"

The nurse nodded. "He's very lucky."

"Say hello to your monster friend, 1249." The doctor roughly gripped the side of Sam's head before he shoved it harshly to the side.

There was Cas, unharmed and handcuffed to the chairs arms with electrodes attached to his head and chest. Sam was glad for the unharmed part but the tears that were running down Cas' cheeks were tough to witness, especially when he could do nothing to help and whatever the doctor was going to do to him was probably going to cause more to fall too.

"He's going to be our test subject too so that we can see just what happens when you monsters get upset." The doctor explained.

The nurse walked over with a pair of scissors and began to cut away his dirty white t-shirt before pulling away the scraps and dumping them into the bin. She then began to attach electrodes, just like the ones on Cas', on his own head and chest. Once she'd finished, the nurse then unstrapped his right hand and ankle before lifting him up from the table so that he was lying on his side. The straps were then re-attached to hold him in the new position.

Fear left Sam cold as he dreaded just what procedure they were planning. The fact that he had been placed on his side suggested to Sam that it was something to do with his back, and the thought just made he feel sick.

The doctor ran a finger down Sam's spine, causing Sam to internally whimper as he did, before taking the metal device from the nurse. Feeling the cold metal press against his back, the doctor lined it up with his spine, the device covering the full length of his back. The meager amount of food they received at the facility meant that the doctor didn't have any trouble with this stage.

"What are you going to do?" Castiel asked, leaning as far forward in the seat as the handcuffs would let him but he was ignored.

"Activating."

'No, no, no, no!' Sam begged in his mind as the doctor pressed down on the device, making sure that it was tightly against his spine before pressing a button on a control panel causing small spikes to descend from the device and bury themselves into the skin of Sam's back. 'Gah!' Sam moaned before in his head before the pain became too much and he began to scream. Not that anyone could hear him in his mind. A tear trickled from his eye and splashed down onto the metal table.

Castiel felt sick as he watched the turturous procedure take place before him. Witnessing the spikes piercing into the skin all the way down Sam's spine was something that he wasn't going to forget in a long time. Hearing the sound of Sam's pained sobs just made everything that much worse too. "You monsters!" He growled. "You barbaric animals!"

"Shut up!" The doctor replied sternly.

Tremors soon began to pulse through Sam's hands and eyelids as he lay on the table. The paralytic drug seemed to be wearing off. Sam realised that it must have been a much weaker dose than the one he had been administered a few nights ago.

"Are you coming back to us, 1249?" The doctor teased. "Great, you'll get to feel all that lovely pain even more."

A weak groan passed Sam's lips as he found himself able to screw his eyes closed to the pain that was burning through his back. The freedom of slight movement brought with it a whole new level of pain which had Sam's hands tightening into fists as his nails scraped down hard on the metal table, even drawing blood in some places while his eyes remained closed as he desperately attempted to breathe through it.

"No anesthetic, no nothing?..." Castiel questioned.

"Your kind don't deserve it." The nurse stated.

"And what is our kind?" He retorted.

"Monsters...Freaks...Murderers..."

"I'll think you'll find that there are millions of murderers among your kind too, and you only have to look in a mirror to see a real monster. Or just turn around to your 'doctor' there, although I don't quite understand how you have the audacity to give yourself that title. Doctors help people. They save lives. They make people better, not torture them, use them as lab rats, and test out medieval contraptions on them."

He once again found himself ignored.

The nurse walked across the room and wheeled over a large machine and an IV pole. Hanging a food bag from the pole, she plugged the end of the tube into the NG tube taped on Sam's cheek. The liquid snaked through the clear tubing and up Sam's nose.

"That'll be all, nurse." The doctor dismissed.

The nurse nodded before leaving the lab.

"W-wh't...what d'you...do to me?"..." Sam's weak tone mumbled.

"Do you realise how many lives we've saved because of freaks like you?" The doctor began. "I don't know what it is about your kind but there's something about your blood that just makes humans tingle." He smirked. "Or heal at phenomenal speeds to be specific. Even in some cases cured from nasty illnesses and such." Bringing the machine closer to the table, the doctor clipped it to the edge. "So that's where we come in."

"You take our blood..." Sam swallowed. "...and then dish it out..."

"Not just blood, organs too, but mostly bone marrow." The doctor quipped a smile at the immediate new wave of fear in Sam's eyes. "You don't have to worry about that just yet though, 1249. There's a much more exciting part of the clinical trials that comes first." He paused. "To save lives we need to first determine whether or not the freak blood has the ability to cure a human of certain illnesses and conditions. Very simple process." He lifted one of the syringes from the side of the machine. It was attached to a tube which led from the syringe itself to a vial. The vial was filled with a dark green liquid. The doctor then reached down and began to inject the thick needle into Sam's spine.

Sam howled out in pain as the syringe dug deeper before he heard the audible sound of the syringe clicking into place in the metal device before he then turned and flicked a switch on the machine causing it to whir quietly.

"What are you doing to him?" Cas asked, his gaze not leaving Sam's shaking body.

"It's more what am I giving it rather than doing to it." The doctor answered, his tone that of pride in his work. "Acute lymphoblastic leukaemia to be precise."

"Leukaemia..." Cas' face paled at the word.

"There are a lot of kids out there who need this cure. 1249 here is going to give them that." The doctor watched as the green liquid ran up the tube and into Sam's spine. "This will cause a mutation in 1249's stem cells which will make them produce lots of white blood cells and in turn cause it's red blood cell and platelet levels to plummet. Once that happens, voila, Leukaemia!"

"You're sick!" Cas shook his head in disgust.

"Nope, but your monster buddy will be very soon. I'll give it..." He looked down at his watch. "Eight hours, and the leukaemia will have developed. This is fast working stuff. Then it will be fevers, fatigue, headaches, vomiting, bruising, joint and abdominal pain, rashes, sweating, bleeding, infections, breathlessness, seizures, blurred vision, and dizziness to see you through until chemotherapy which has even more lovely side effects from the ones I've already mentioned such as hair loss, and mouth ulcers." The doctor paused. "We were originally going to test to see what properties your monster blood brought to the table but then the Director, your biggest fan, just couldn't do that to you. He gave the instruction to make sure that you suffered more than anyone could ever imagine because you're our favourite, 1249. This will be your legacy. On you we will test every type of new leukaemia cure until one works and then we'll save millions. Imagine the papers, 'Doctor develops cure for leukaemia'." He smiled. "You'd be a hero, 1249. Not that anyone would know though. You might die at the end of this but that is a sacrifice we are willing to make in the name of science. But if it works, you would then be able to be our next subject for the next illness we need to find a cure for, and you could be lucky and be the reason behind that cure too, or you could die. Whatever happens, 1249, you're never getting out of here. Actually, you're never going to get out of this room. You're ours. You have been for a very long time, and that's just the way we like it. Because monsters like you, 1249, they don't deserve freedom, they deserve to be lab rats and locked up in cages because you are filthy, disgusting, vile creatures that God put on this Earth only for us to experiment on. God created things like you for people like us, actual humans to cure all of the diseases that he plagued this fine Earth with. And who would we be to disobey?" He shook his head. "You have always been a pain in our asses since you were dragged in here all those years ago." The doctor paused. "Eleven years ago when we killed your family."

Cas noticed the sheer emotion in Sam's expression as tears streamed down his cheeks at the mention of his family.

"That was your fault, 1249." The doctor stated. "They were good, honest, human people and then you, you caused pain and unbelievable suffering in their lives before inevitably causing their deaths too. We weren't going to kill them but you resisted us. You wouldn't come quietly, so we had to act. And acting meant putting bullets through their heads." He leant down so that he was close to Sam's face. The doctor then jabbed a finger against Sam's forehead, dead in the center. "Right here."

Sam whimpered, eyes closed.

"Kaboom." He laughed. "I can't imagine what that must have done to a four year old...actually, I can, because after we'd dragged you in here we stuffed you in that chair and we did endless tests until you could barely even remember your own name. I don't even think you can remember theirs. How pathetic and weak do you have to me to forget the names of your family, your own flesh and blood. Well...maybe not blood. Fucking demon spawn. Monsters!" He shouted. "But despite every test and every trial, the lack of food and water, and everyday you spent caged away, you still resisted. The famous fucking spanner in the works who just wouldn't give up. Who still thought that their was a light at the end of whatever fucking tunnel you were looking down. And so you kick and scream and hurl insults until you're blue in the face. You assault the Director, call him every name under the sun, and show him so little respect that even I was surprised that he let you live that day. You know, 1249, the day that the Director lost it. The day you destroyed his fuse so much that he left the viewing gallery and stormed into the test suite before ripping you from the chair and beating you within an inch of your life until you were a shivering, bleeding mess on the floor, barely breathing and with more broken bones than I ever thought imaginable, and a concussion that lasted longer than fucking Stairway To Heaven. But even then you held on like the little cockroach that you are. And for what? Just to be tested again and again everyday, forever." The doctor scoffed. "You freaks confuse me...but who cares, you monsters don't deserve mercy or sympathy." He took off his gloves before throwing them into the trash can. "I'll see you in eight hours, freak." He then walked out.

Cas looked to his friend not really knowing how to approach conversation with him. "Sam..." He spoke softly, testing the ground to see how he would react.

No response came. Sam's eyes stayed closed, pain visible as he tremored. The only sound was the light whir of the machine and the whoosh of the ceiling fan.


	8. Chapter 8

'Rattle, rattle, rattle.'

'Click, click, click.'

"Goddammit!" A light voice whispered before the sounds repeated.

Hours that seemed like days passed in the confines of the room. The ceiling light flickered between shades of orange and yellow as the bulb seemed to be giving up. The fan continued to whir alongside the cool wind blew through every corner of the bleak nightmare they were trapped inside.

Castiel cursed once again as he slumped his hands down by his sides, ending his attempts of freedom for the time being before his gaze once again moved up and over to the figure of Sam lying on the metal table across the room from him. Skin almost translucent and finely stretched over too prominent bones and bumps, the outline of his spine was only obscured from Cas' view by the machine pumping horrific chemicals into his shivering form.

Anger flared inside the angel as he wished he wasn't so useless. Sam was over there needing all the comfort he could get and yet here he was stuck in this chair.

He cleared his throat before he spoke up, breaking the silence that had plagued between the two of them. "Sam?..."

Cas sighed. "Sam, please...talk to me..." Casting his mind back to the short time they had spent together in their cell, he remembered the tune that he had once heard Sam humming to himself in his sleep as comfort after a nightmare. Maybe it would help provide the comfort that Cas was so desperate to provide.

"Hey Jude, don't make it bad...Take a sad song and make it better...Remember to let her into your heart...Then you can start to make it better..."

Cas paused for a few seconds before dropping his head in defeat when yet again no reply came.

"My brother used to sing that to me..."

The weak sound of Sam's gruff, pained voice was the most beautiful Cas had ever heard. A smile coming to his face.

"He didn't really do the whole lullabies thing, said they were too girly, so he would sing Hey Jude, or anything by Led Zeppelin."

"You were close to your brother?" Cas asked before noticing Sam's extremely uncoordinated nod on the table.

"He practically raised me. My Dad, he was...absent quite a lot when I was really little." Sam paused. "The doctor said that I couldn't remember the names of my family. He was wrong. I remember everything. Even stupid details like how Dean used to always pocket sugar packets from diners we passed through so that he could pour in it with his cereal. I might only have been four, but I've never let myself forget the small amount I actually know about them. I became obsessed when I got a little older with making sure that I didn't forget." He took a shaky breath. "Their names were Dean and John. They died awful...and there was nothing I could do to stop them."

"Stop who?"

"These monsters." Sam answered. "The men who broke into our motel room and beat my brother until he was a mess of blood and broken bones on the floor before dragging me out of there and sending a bullet through his skull. My Dad tried to stop them from taking me. He had just pulled up in the parking lot and he heard me screaming for Dean as physically loud as a four year old could shout. But they shot him too. I can still hear the sound of the gunshots that killed them when I fall asleep at night. They're all I ever dream about. Them and Jess."

"I'm sorry." Cas offered.

"What have you got to be sorry for, it's not your fault." Sam replied.

"It's not yours either." He paused. "You don't deserve this, Sam. Any of it. And I'm gonna' get you out."

"There's no way out of here, Cas. I've tried so many times. All it leads to is more pain and punishment. The last time I tried something they killed my best friend, and I won't lose you too, Cas...I won't."

"You won't have to." Cas sighed softly.

"I don't know that...Gah!" Sam gasped in pain as his body began to convulse on the flat metal table.

"Sam!" Cas screamed. "Sam!"

"Ugh..." Sam whimpered. "I'm okay...I'm okay..." He tried to reassure.

"I think you and I both know that this is as far from okay as it could possibly get." Cas replied.

When Sam's frame ceased its convulsions, he slumped ever further down against the table, completely wiped out from exhaustion. "For a long time, a part of me has always wanted this to just be over." He began, weakly. "Wishing that they would just empty a round into my skull too, just as they did to Dean and my Dad..."

Cas could feel a silent tear trickling down his cheek at Sam's confession.

"...But then I met you...and now...I've never wanted to survive this more..."

"We will." Cas found his voice. "I promise you Sam, we're gonna' make it out of here." He paused. "You've been here for so long that I would enjoy nothing more than reintroducing you to the world as it is now."

"Tell me about it." Sam's tone perked up.

"Okay." He thought for a few seconds. "Well you've got eleven years' worth of movies and TV to catch up on so we're gonna' be spending a lot of time binging them all on Netflix. There's also so much technology for you to discover. Everyone has a phone that can fit in their pocket which they are never separated from. Oh and America has a black President. That's pretty cool. What else?" Cas paused. "Of course I can't forget about the flying cars that people are zooming around in. And then there's the Martians that came to say 'Hello' and ended up staying. There was the first ever Human and Martian marriage a couple of years back. That was pretty exciting."

"Cas..." Sam giggled. "I'm a little behind on all this stuff, but I'm not that stupid."

Cas smiled, glad that his jokes had served their purpose in getting his friend to smile. "Fine..." He pretended to huff. "How about..."

The sound of shouting outside halted Cas' sentence before his haze flew to the metal door.

"Cas?! Cas?!" Sam's tone became flooded with fear. "What's happening?"

"I don't know." Cas answered truthfully. "Don't worry, Sam. Just keep fighting those toxins, okay?"

A few more bangs and curses could be heard before the handle slammed down and the door creaked open.

The figure that slowly walked into the room was not much older than Sam. His brown hair was covered in dust from the plasterboard and his knuckles were bloody. Numerous cuts could be made out amongst the freckles on his face. Gun up as he scoped the room, Cas was sure he'd heard the guy gasp.

"Sammy?"


	9. Chapter 9

"Sammy?"

Eyes trained on the guy who'd just entered, Cas furrowed an eyebrow. Who was this guy? Everyone that worked in this place used the pronoun 'it' for the residents, along with their registration numbers. Not names. And especially not nicknames. Did Sam know him?

The guy's gaze found Cas', taking in the handcuffs and electrodes. Lowering his gun, he had clearly came to the decision that in his current situation, Cas wasn't a threat.

Glancing towards the table, Cas noticed the slump to Sam's body. His first guess was unconscious, and at this moment, Cas couldn't be more glad. If he managed to get out of these cuffs, it wasn't going to end pretty for the new arrival if he tried anything.

The guy's eyes were fixed on the table too before he went to walk closer.

"Don't you dare touch him!" Cas growled, days of rage, sadness, and guilt all coming to the surface in one explosive act of defence for his injured friend.

The guy looked less than impressed by Cas' display.

"If you genuinely care about him, then un-cuff me from here and I'll do what I can to tend to him." Cas bargained. "And you can put that gun of yours out of reach too while you're at it."

The guy scoffed lightly, but Cas couldn't help but notice a small smile at the corner of his lips. Reaching down to place his gun on the floor, the guy kicked it softly across the room before putting his hands up slightly in a motion of 'surrender'. Walking over, the guy made quick work of picking the locks.

As soon as he heard the final click, Cas ripped the electrodes from his head and chest before sprinting across the short distance to Sam's still unconscious form.

"Sam?...Sam?..." He called softly, gently shaking his friend's shoulder in an attempt to awaken him. "Come on, sleepy head..."

The guy walked over and stood next to the table in which Sam lay. Cas could hear the sound of his breath catch in his throat at the sight. The guy's eyes went wide in an instant and Cas could have sworn he saw tears beginning to gather.

"Sammy..." The strength that had once been in the guy's tone had suddenly dissipated leaving only a weak tone plagued with deep emotion. Cas watched as the guy's hand reached out slowly and fell naturally into Sam's soft brown hair. "What did they do to him?" The guy's gaze turned to Cas.

Looking up to him, Cas saw nothing but rage in his eyes. The same rage that had burned in Cas moments before, but much more vicious. "Before I tell you anything, I need to know." Cas began. "Who are you?"

The guy paused for a few seconds, eyes having returned to Sam's pale form. "I'm his brother."

Cas' eyes widened. "Dean?!" He gasped. "But you're...Sam said you were..."

"Dead?" Dean answered. "Yeah, I know what they told him."

"But?..."

"I'll explain later, now help me get him out of here." Dean instructed. "Are you good?"

Cas realised that Dean was asking about his current condition. "I'm fine. They took their anger out on Sam, not me." Walking over to the machine he flicked the switch off.

"Oh, Sammy...What did they do you, kiddo" Dean was leaning down beside his brother's back, gaze fixed on the torture device inserted into his spine.

"They were given him leukaemia." Cas explained.

Dean's eyes widened. "What!" He exclaimed, panic arising in his tone. "Sammy! Sammy!" He lightly tapped Sam's cheek. "Wake up, Sammy!"

"Dean, right now I think Sam would be better off unconscious." Cas offered. "We're gonna' have to remove all those." He motioned.

Anger raged within Dean's expression once again before he seemed to calm slightly for Sam's sake. "Okay." Carefully taking a hold of the needle, Dean began to slowly extract it from his brother's spine. Luckily the needle slid out easily and Sam remained still.

"One down." Dean threw the needle across the room before turning his attention to the contraption. "Do you know how they connected these?"

"They activated something." Cas replied. "Maybe there's a button somewhere on it."

Dean trailed his fingers down the contraption until he found a small switch. "Got it." He stated before placing his hand gently on his little brother's shoulder in comfort. "Hold on, Sammy." Flicking the switch, the needles retracted from Sam's spine. As they did, Sam bucked on the table, whimpering in pain as he did.

"It's okay, Sammy...It's okay...I'm here...We're gonna' get you out, just hold on for me, kiddo..." Dean cood, stroking a hand through Sam's hair once again.

Cas made short work of the electrodes as Dean dropped the contraption to the floor. He then gently removed the feed tube from the NG tube taped to his cheek before shrugging out of the brown leather jacket he was wearing and gently wrapped it around Sam's cold form. 'Hold on, buddy.' Cas heard him whisper softly in his little brother's ear as he ever so carefully scooped up the skinny bundle into his arms, holding him close to his chest.

"Could you get my gun?" Dean asked.

Cas nodded and quickly crossed the room to pick it up.

"I'm gonna' need you to cover us." He began. "You ever fired a gun before?"

Cas shook his head.

"You'll be fine. Just shoot if anyone tries anything, okay?"

"Okay."

~~~

The rush out of the facility was for the most part uneventful. They had received numerous comments from nurses regarding the transfer of patients without permission, but Cas had been quick to scare them off with the nickel plated gun in his hands. When they reached the parking lot, Dean motioned towards an old Chevy before throwing open the back door and gently manoeuvring himself and Sam inside.

Cas had climbed into the passenger seat next to a man who he guessed to be Sam and Dean's father from the worried expression as he turned around in his seat to get a better view of his two sons, one of whom was lying unconscious across the back bench, head resting in Dean's lap.

"Drive, Dad!" Dean instructed before adjusting his grip on Sam, as if he knew just how hard their father was going to floor the Chevy's old engine as they sped out of the parking lot.

Cas was thrown back against the bench, forced to drop the gun onto the leather as he scrambled to grab hold of the doorframe in an attempt to stay upright as they tore down the backroads that led them away from the facility.

Soon they approached a motel and upon parking up, Dean instantaneously gathered his little brother into his arms once again before transferring them both into the comfort of the room.

Cas exited the car and promptly threw up into the flower bed. A hand came to rest gently on his back before the crouched figure of John appeared at his side.

"You get used to riding in her." He offered a smile, although it was weak. His concern was genuine, but Cas couldn't help but feel guilty about keeping the father away from his son who he hadn't seen for eleven years, and definitely needed him more.

"I'll be fine." Cas reassured with a light smile.

John nodded before standing up and walking off into the motel room, leaving the door open.

Cas wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before following him inside. Closing the door behind him, the scene before him made him smile once again.

Both Winchester's were positioned beside the unconscious younger. John's hand carding through his son's hair, just as he had seen Dean do at the facility, while Dean's hand was intertwined with his little brother's on the bed.

John pushed a few strands away behind Sam's ear before turning to him and walking over.

"I didn't really get a chance to say it back there, but thank you."

"For what?" Cas furrowed an eyebrow.

"I saw you with Dean's gun, you've clearly never held a gun in your life, but you did in defence of my sons. You also just helped Dean break Sam out of that god forsaken place too."

"Sam is my friend." Cas stated.

John couldn't help but smile at that. "Sam's lucky to have you."

"Sam kept me strong in there. We looked after each other."

"I'm glad to hear that." John nodded. "Anyway, there's a shower through there so you can get cleaned up, and Dean has some spare clothes you can use too."

"Thank you, but I would like to stay with Sam until he wakes up. If...if that's alright?" Cas asked, seeking permission.

"Of course it is." John replied. "Dean I need to go and find some bags for that NG tube, are you alright here?"

Dean nodded from his position at Sam's bedside.

"I'll be back in twenty." The door clicked closed behind him.

Cas crossed the room over to the bed in which Sam was lying on and walked round the opposite side to Dean. Pulling across a chair from the corner of the room, he sat down in it before his gaze fell to his unconscious friend and his brother. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Cas spoke up.

"Back there, you said that you knew what they'd told him." He paused. "The way Sam said it, he saw you die. He said that you got a bullet in the head, and so did your Dad."

"Sam was four when he was taken from us, I was eight. When they broke into our motel room, everything that Dad had ever trained me for suddenly became real. It wasn't just some practice session, or a hunt, it was survival...Sammy's survival." Dean explained. "I tried to fight them off, but they outnumbered me. One of them managed to land a hit on me and before I knew it I was on the ground getting beat on until I could barely hold onto consciousness." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I did however have just enough consciousness left in me to see my baby brother pulled from his bed screaming at the top of his lungs and sobbing hysterically. He just kept repeating my name over and over to help him, save him from them, but I couldn't. And then those monsters did something much worse than kill me. The ring leader fired a shot into the room. It wasn't meant for me, but Sammy didn't know that. When they were dragging him out of the room I thought my brother couldn't scream any louder, but I was wrong. He thought I was dead because they had planned everything like clockwork. They even pretended to kill our Dad too. It was just all part of their plan to break him." Dean traced a finger gently down over the bruises on Sam's neck, the ones left there by the tube being forced down his throat.

Cas was silent for a few seconds as he observed Sam's older brother and the care he took when assessing the injuries on Sam's still unconscious form. It was clear to him that Dean believed this all to be his fault. Despite only being eight years old, there was no doubt in Cas' mind that over the years all that guilt would've just eaten away at Dean for 'failing to protect his little brother'. Cas knew that there wasn't much he could say at this exact moment to offer any reassurance to the older brother, but he had a few ideas.

"They never managed it."

Dean furrowed an eyebrow. "What?"

"To break him." Cas paused. "Apparently he's always fought the medical staff his whole time there. He's kept fighting through it all when most would have crumbled. And he's never given up."

Dean struggled to keep it together at Cas' last words. The thought of his little brother being tortured and experimented on day it day out in here made him sick to the stomach. And the reality of how often his little brother must have considered just ending it all when the pain got too much for him was just too raw. Those monsters had taken his little brother away from him eleven years ago. It had taken years to find any leads on the men who stole him from their motel room but as soon as they caught wind of a facility out in Utah, they'd both rushed out there. Dean had faked his way into a job at the facility to try and track Sam down. As fate would have it, his brother had been the one to run into him, quite literally. As soon as he knew that this was the place, Dean had reported back to their Dad, giving him the details. After that it was just a case of loading Baby with a trunk full of weapons and storming the place.

"That's my kid." Dean offered a small smile of pride at his little brother's determination and stubbornness before noticing the sagging eyelids of Sam's friend. "You were in there with him too." He began. "Take the other bed and try and get some sleep." Dean's tone was soft, just as it had been when taking care of his brother.

"But what if..." Cas began but was interrupted.

"I'll wake you when Sam decides he's had enough beauty sleep." Dean quipped with a smirk.

Cas smiled. "Thanks, Dean."

"You're welcome."

Walking over to the other bed, Cas clambered onto it, immediately sinking into the soft mattress. Throwing down the covers so that he didn't make a mess of them, Cas rested his head on the pillow and found that peaceful, safe sleep came to him in seconds.


	10. Chapter 10

Cas' brows creased as he was pulled back to consciousness. A voice was becoming louder before he realised its source.

"No! No! No! Please! Please, don't! Please!"

Sam.

"Sammy, please. Wake up." Dean was on the edge of the bed Sam was lying on, hands hovering above his little brother's arms.

Sam was thrashing around, clearly in the throes of a nightmare before his eyes snapped open. Finding the gaze of Dean in seconds, Sam gasped and scuttled backwards quickly, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

"Cas?!" He shouted.

Jumping out of bed, Cas was across the short gap in a second.

"Hey, hey, hey..." Cas began, softly.

He climbed onto the bed next to Sam and gently took his hands in his own.

"Where are we?" Sam asked, strength now in his tone. His body language screamed of defence, and Cas knew he was ready to attack, injuries and all, at any second.

"We're safe. We're both safe."

"No..." Sam shook his head, eyes still not leaving Dean. "No this is just another trick. Just another one of their games."

"Sam..." Cas attempted, finally attracting Sam's gaze.

"No, we need to get out of here." Sam paused, tightening his grip on his friend's hand. "We need to get out of here, Cas."

Sam stood up from the bed with such determination that without prior context, no one would ever be able to tell that he was injured. Cas winced at the thought, Sam was used to hiding injuries.

"Sam, you're weak and hurt. If we ran we wouldn't make it a mile." Cas stated.

"Then we steal a car. I used to pick locks in the facility, I'm sure it can't be that different." Sam answered.

"No, Sam, listen!" Cas shouted.

Sam stopped, jumping slightly in shock at the outburst. His face fell.

Cas sighed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shouted, but you have to listen to me."

Sam nodded, his gaze cast down towards the floor like a small child that had just been told off by his parents.

Cas took a hold of his friend's hands once again and offered them a squeeze. "We're not in some facility concocted scenario. We're not in danger. We're not even in the facility." He paused before smiling. "We're out, Sam, and we're never going back there ever again."

"Then..." Sam began, but stopped.

Cas knew that it was a lot to process. Sam had been in that facility for eleven years. He'd even said it himself that getting out had become just a pipedream because of the years and years of disappointment and pain. To get his head around freedom was not going to be a quick or easy process, but they could do it together.

"I know..." His tone was soft as he placed his hands on Sam's cheeks. "I know it's scary, and it's gonna' take some time to adjust, but you did it."

"We did it." Sam corrected.

Cas smiled. "Yes we did."

"Forever?"

It amazed Cas how Sam could look so much younger than his years in moments like this. Moments when he was truly scared, or confused, or just simply thankful for actually being shown kindness. It was heart-warming.

"Forever." Cas repeated before pulling Sam closer.

Sam allowed himself to be brought into Cas' embrace as he rested his head against his friend's chest and let the unshed tears in his eyes fall down his cheeks.

Cas was crying softly now too as he gently stroked a hand down Sam's back.

"Thank you." He heard Sam mumble.

Cas placed his hands on Sam's cheeks and softly lifted his head so that they met each other's gaze. "You don't even have to thank me for that. Ever."

Sam smiled and nodded tearfully before leaning in and pressing his lips against Cas'. They kissed for a few seconds before he dropped his head onto Cas' shoulder.

Cas glanced over at Dean, who had well and truly been forgotten over at the far side of the room, and smiled.

Dean looked equally as emotional as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes.

"Sam..." Cas began softly. "There's someone I need to introduce you to."

Sam leant back so that he was looking at Cas before his eyes travelled across the room. "Who is he?"

Cas took a breath. "Dean."

Sam's breath caught in his throat. "Is this some kind of joke, because it's not funny?"

"Sam..." Cas began.

"No!" Sam shouted. "Get off me!" He shoved away Cas' arms and walked away from them both. "Why would you say that? Of all people, why you, Cas?"

"I'm telling the truth."

"Bullshit." Sam's breathing was heavy in anger. "You fucking heard everything back at the facility. You know what happened. What I saw. Dean and my Dad are dead. Those bastards they..." His tone wobbled. "...they shot them in the head."

"That's what they wanted you to think." Cas stated.

Sam paused, his brow furrowing. "Excuse me."

"You said it yourself, they lie. Why won't you believe that they lied about this?"

"Because..." Sam began before pausing and placing his hand over his mouth as he tried to compose himself. Tears were once again trickling down his cheeks.

Dean took a few steps towards Sam.

"Don't you dare come near me!" Sam shouted as he backed against the wall.

"Because what, Sam?" Cas asked.

Sam took a breath. "Because if they've been alive all this time, why did they never try to find me? Why did they never come and rescue me from that hell hole? Why did I spend eleven years being tortured, and beaten, and starved by those animals? Why did they let me think that they were dead?"

"We looked for you. We have looked for you every single day since they took you from us. We never stopped." Dean spoke up, softly. "They were so good at covering their tracks that we had zero leads to work from." He paused. "And then one day they slipped up. We managed to get an address for the facility and we drove for three days straight to track it down. I wanted to just walk in there guns blazing but Dad was right, we had to wait. We had to get you out alive, and we couldn't risk you getting caught in the crossfire of however the facility reacted. So we waited, I got a job at the facility as a cleaner..." Dean paused and quipped a small smile. "Mundane, I know. But it meant that I was able to get the layout down. We needed to know every inch of that place, and once we had, we struck."

Sam's eyes were unreadable for a few seconds as he looked at Dean. "I remember you." He began. "You were in the corridor the day I tried to get to Jess. I ran into you." Sam paused. "I never understood why you never tried to restrain me, or sedate me, or hurt me. You just looked scared, even more than I was." He ducked his head and ruffled a hand through his hair for a few seconds before looking back up at Dean. "That was the first time you'd seen me since, right?"

Dean was still for a few seconds before he took a breath and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, it was."

"You're really him?" Sam's voice was small.

"Yes. We got you out, Sammy." Dean's tone strong in emotion.

Walking across the gap that separated them, Sam held out a hand and placed it on his older brother's cheek, as if to check to see if he was real or not. As the touch landed, a tear trickled down Sam's cheek as gasped.

"Dean?"

Dean was teary eyed too as the realisation sank in for his little brother.

"Yeah, Sammy...it's me."

In a second Sam threw himself into the arms of his older brother, clinging tight to his shirt as he began to sob harshly.

"Hey, it's okay." Dean gently stroked Sam's hair in comfort as he held him.

"I thought you were dead." Came a whimper.

"I know." Tears fell down Dean's cheeks. "I am so sorry. I'm so sorry, Sammy."

"It's okay, it's okay." Sam reassured. "You tried. That's all that matters. You got me and Cas out. Thank you." As he pulled away, he turned to Cas and walked back over to him.

Cas wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him against his side. "You need to sit down."

"I'm fine." Sam lied.

"No..." Cas shook his head, his tone soft. "...you're not. You know you're not."

Sam was about to argue when his legs gave way beneath him. They would have sent him down to the ground, but Cas was prepared and took his weight with ease, helping him over to the bed and gently helping him to lie back down on the mattress. "I need to treat your back and then you need to eat."

"No..." Sam whined, weakly.

Cas knew Sam hated feedings through the NG tube, but it was the only way Sam's stomach was ever going to take food at the current time. They could worry about getting him eating properly again later, right now the tube would have to do. He turned to Dean. "Any idea how long your Dad will be with those bags?"

Dean shook his head. "I can try calling him, but there's no guarantee that he's managed to find any."

"Okay then, plan B." Cas climbed onto the bed and lay down beside Sam.

Sam shuffled along, wincing slightly in pain as he did so, allowing Cas to share the pillow.

Cas ran a hand through Sam's fringe, pushing it to the side behind his ear. "Sleep, I'll watch over you."

"You need to sleep too." Sam stated, softly reaching a hand out across the mattress and interlinking his fingers with Cas.

Cas smiled. "I can't."

"Nothing is getting in this room." Dean spoke up. "And if it does, it has to go through me. You two need your rest."

Glancing back across at Sam, he was already asleep, breathing lightly. "Thank you." He said, gratefully.

Dean nodded. "Thank you for looking after my little brother."

"Sam did more of the looking after." Cas stated.

"I'm sure he'd have something to say about that." Dean replied. "Now sleep, I'll try and get a hold of my Dad."

Cas shuffled closer to Sam and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He wrapped an arm around Sam's waist before closing his eyes, sleep coming easily to him.


	11. Chapter 11

Gasping, Sam began to gag and retch around an invisible tube in his throat. He scrunched his eyes tightly together as he bucked and whimpered.

Cas groaned before awareness came back to him. Throwing the comforter to the side he quickly knelt down on the mattress next to his friend and hovered his hand over Sam's arm, making sure not to touch him.

"It's okay, it's okay...it's just a nightmare, Sam. It's just a nightmare. You're safe, you're safe now, we're both safe. We're out, and we're never going back." Cas' voice was soft and reassuring. "Can you hear me, Sam? Could you open your eyes for me so that I can prove that we're safe?"

Sam whimpered once again but did crack an eye open slightly.

"There we go." Cas smiled at him. "It's okay, it's all okay. No one's going to hurt you, you're fine."

"Cas?"

"I'm right here." He nodded in confirmation. "Can I touch you? It's okay to say no."

Sam responded by taking Cas' wrist in his hand and lightly pulling.

Cas smiled, knowing exactly what Sam meant by the action, and clambered back under the comforter, huddling close to his friend and gathering him up in his arms so that Sam was resting against his chest. He carded a hand through Sam's bangs.

"Sorry..." A soft voice spoke up.

"Hey..." Cas scowled lightly, what have I said about that? You've done nothing wrong, and it's okay to be having nightmares, that's completely usual considering everything that has happened."

Sam smiled, sleepily at him, snuggling closer against Cas' chest, burying his head into the crook of Cas' neck and closing his eyes. "I love you."

Cas smiled too, looking down at his friend, tears pricking at his eyes. "I love you too." Pressing a kiss to Sam's forehead, Cas tightened his grip on his friend and closed his eyes, both of them falling back into a peaceful sleep in each other's arms.

* * *

The door slamming closed had both of them bolting upright, eyes flying to the source of the sound which was Dean, with a very sheepish expression on his face.

"Sorry..." He apologised, walking into the motel room and dumping his leather jacket down on the back of one of the table chairs.

Cas gently stroked a hand up and down Sam's spine, careful not to disturb the wounds from the procedure, knowing that it always helped to calm his friend down. Shuffling backwards to rest back against the headboard and the wall, Cas encouraged a shaking Sam to come closer too, pulling him close against his chest, the same as they had been in sleep.

Dean noticed that Cas' eyes had not left him for a second, wide in concern clearly for both himself and Sam, he knew that it wasn't going to be some easy feat to re-introduce his little brother and his friend back into the world, and teaching them to trust it too.

Sam rested his head against Cas' shoulder.

Dean smiled before a conversation starter came to mind. "Dad managed to find some of those feeding bags so he's on his way back with them now. You two doing okay? Can I get you anything?"

Cas looked down at his friend and began to whisper so only he would hear. "Sam, you need to drink, you must be close to be dehydrated after that procedure yesterday."

"No..." He whimpered almost silently, fearing that he would throw up if he attempted to consume anything.

"Please, Sam...for me? At least give it a try, if you feel like you are going to be sick then no one will make you drink more, okay? I just need to make sure that you're not going to get more ill by not drinking enough."

Sam nodded.

Cas smiled at him before looking back to Dean. "Ummm...Could-could Sam have a glass of water, please, Sir?"

"Sure. Do you want one?"

"We can share." Cas answered simply.

"Okay..." Dean walked to the kitchenette and picked the last clean glass from the drying rack before filling it with cold water and heading back over to the bed. He made sure to go around Cas' side of the bed to not spook his little brother, something that he seemed appreciative of, despite clearly being apprehensive himself.

Dean took a few steps back from the bed, the act having an immediate effect on Cas who seemed to release a breath and loosen his grip slightly on Sam.

He slowly lifted to the glass to Sam's lips, nudging at them with the rim before they opened slightly, allowing him to pour some of the cool liquid into his friend's mouth. Cas then placed the glass down on the sidetable and regathered Sam up into his arms, noticing that his friend's eyes were closed once again, breaths lightly making the material of his white centre issued shirt flutter ever so slightly.

"Is he okay?"

"Should be, he just needs time." Cas began he looked to Dean noticing that the elder brother clearly wanted to know more. "He uhhh, he shuts down sometimes when they've really hurt him, or when he's scared. I think they called it catatonia."

Dean felt sick in the pit of his stomach at Cas' description of his little brother's mental health.

"You can't touch him when he's catatonic 'cause he gets worked up thinking you're an orderly. You...you have to just wait and try and reassure him that he's safe. He gets lost when he's like that, he doesn't know where he is, he doesn't recognise people, he doesn't understand what's happening to him, he just gets really, really scared and then just stops. Everything stops and he just goes silent."

"Is that what he's doing now?"

"He's not catatonic. Trust me, you would know if he was..." Cas realised how rude that sounded. "Uhhh, sorry, Sir...I didn't mean that like..."

"Cas..." Dean began. "It's Cas, isn't it?"

"Castiel." He nodded.

"Castiel, I'm not going to hurt you, and you certainly don't need to call me, Sir, you're making me sound old. I know you're used to the way they treated you in there, but I'm not going to punish you for speaking out of turn, I want you both to feel at home here, as much as you can. You're safe, I can promise you that, and if those bastards from the centre come after you, well they're just going to have to go through me and my Dad first, and trust me, we can handle ourselves in a fight."

Cas nodded. "Thank you, S-...Dean."

Dean smiled before he walked to sit down on the edge of his own bed, next to the one occupying Cas and Sam.

Cas noticed his expression. "Are you okay, S...Dean?"

He exhaled. "I should be. I mean, we got him back, didn't we? I should be bouncing around the room in happiness right now, but...I don't know, it just seems wrong. Everything seems wrong." Dean paused. "I knew from the jump that this wasn't going to be easy. I knew that Sam was going to be different, and I had mentally prepared myself for whatever condition I was going to find him in, but now...now that I actually have him back..."

"You don't know what to do." Cas added.

Dean nodded. "Sam was taken when he was four. He's been in that Hellhole for twelve years. So much has changed. I've changed. The world has changed. How is he going to cope with that?"

"Sam is the strongest person I have ever met; he will get through this. It's just going to take time, me included. I would be lying if I said I was terrified right now. Even having you sitting there is making my hackles rise. We're not okay."

"I would be worried if you were." Dean stated sympathetically. "We have options. There are people, specialists who do this sorta' thing for a living. They talk to you and you tell them how you're feeling and about your memories."

"Rehabilitation?"

"In a smaller scale, yes." Dean nodded. "We can go as fast or as slow with this, as big or as small as you're comfortable with, no one is going to force you to do anything."

Cas adjusted his grip on Sam, holding him tight in his arms.

Dean's gaze turned to his little brother. "I can't imagine what that would be like, not knowing anything about the world you live in, because how much could a sixteen-year-old remember about when they were four?" He sighed. "He seemed vaguely okay yesterday..."

"That was the adrenaline. The human body can do anything in defence of itself and others. Sam believed that I was in danger so he used the last of his energy to stand up to you." Cas paused. "He might not remember much about yesterday, when he woke up this morning he thought he was still in the centre. I didn't tell him much more about where we were and who the two of you are so that will need re-covered." He noticed the expression on the eldest brother's face as he looked at his little brother. "Fresh start, right?"

Dean nodded, a tear trickling down his cheek. "Yeah." His answer caught in his throat as he sniffled. "I'm gonna', I'm gonna' go take a walk in the parking lot, shout if you need anything." Standing up from the bed he headed for the door.

"Of course, thank you."

Dean closed the door behind him. Walking over to the drinks machine at the far side of the motel, his breathing was heavy in built up emotion. Lashing out, Dean struck the machine with his fist over and over, growling in release as he did so. Tears were freefalling now as he began to sob, body shaking.

A hand came to gently take his own before he could punch the vending machine once again.

Dean turned.

John's expression was equally tormented in sorrow as he pulled his son close, pulling him down to rest his head against his shoulder before offering a comforting stroke to his back.

"It's okay, Dean...it's gonna' be okay."


	12. Chapter 12

_Sam whimpered as he came too. It took him a few seconds to find enough strength to open his eyelids. Head flopped to the side, resting against the hard plastic of the chair, without even needing to try and move his hands he knew they would be strapped down by his sides._

_Black spots danced in his vision, his body weak and uncooperative. The treatment that morning had already wrecked him, Sam didn't know if it was possible for the human body to endure anything else._

_"Please..." His throat was raw and dry, the words slurred and broken._

_"Silence." A voice ordered._

_Sam bucked slightly against the restraints, getting worked up as he scrunched his eyes together in desperation. "Please...no more...no more...please..."_

_A door could be heard opening from across the room._

_"So, 1249...we meet again." The Director laughed. "This is becoming a regular thing for us, isn't it?"_

_"You missed it begging." The nurse informed._

_"Oh really?" Footsteps approached the chair he had been strapped down in. The Director leaned down close to him, face inches away from his Sam's. "Well I look forward to hearing more of that during your next treatment."_

_The nurse walked over once again, this time holding a syringe._

_"No more...no more drugs, please!" Sam begged._

_"What happened to that fighting spirit, 1249?"_

_"Please...please..."_

_"Quiet!" The Director bellowed. "At least till after I explain to you what's about to happen. I don't want you to miss a thing."_

_The nurse tied a black tourniquet around his upper arm and pulled tight, squeezing the muscle._

_"In the 1960s, the United States government experimented with various substances to enhance interrogations. A barbiturate in one arm to knock you out, an amphetamine in the other. A rollercoaster of sorts. You can only take so many rounds of it before your heart explodes." The Director grinned. "Shall we begin?"_

_"You...you normally have some kind of reason for doing these tests on me...what are you looking to find this time?" Sam grunted._

_"Oh nothing at all..." He answered. "This is just for fun." The Director brushed a hand through Sam's unkempt hair. "You're our favourite, Sammy. Always have been, always will be." He paused. "You can't blame us for wanting to have a little fun once in a while, can you?"_

_The nurse brought forward a metal trolley._

_"This is where it gets really fun."_

_The nurse was busy preparing numerous syringes._

_"You see, the barbiturate and amphetamine combo is nice, but we knew we could do better than that. So here's the deal, you tell us the information we want, and you don't become catatonic. For each answer you give us that was deem helpful, we will throw one of these lovely syringes away. Every time you give us a false, or smart-ass answer, or just ignore us completely, you get injected." The Director explained. "If the B&amp;A's make your heart give up, imagine what our invented dose will do to a freak like you."_

_"Don't do this..."_

_"Administer the first dose."_

_"No...no..." Sam whimpered, bucking at the restraints._

_The nurse placed grabbed him roughly, hand tightly holding the side of his face and his jaw holding him still against the seat. She then plunged the needle into his right arm before depressing it._

_Sam eyes flickered as the drug entered his bloodstream in seconds flat. The world began to scream around him, swirling and crashing. He began to retch, froth rising from his stomach and dribbling down his chin. Sam choked as he struggled for air through the expulsed froth._

_"So...4561, I know from the guards that he was a previous cellmate of yours. The two of you got along well I've heard."_

_'Brady'_

_"What about him?"_

_"It escaped last night." The Director stated._

_A smile came to Sam's face._

_"It was scheduled for this exact treatment today, which is why you have the privilege to be receiving it instead. So for my first question, where will 4561 be headed?"_

_"Go screw yourself..."_

_"Nurse."_

_"No, no, no..." _

_Another needle was stabbed into his arm._

_"Ahhh..." Sam moaned._

_"Where is it, 1249? Where's 4561?!"_

_"Go screw yourself..." Sam coughed._

_The Director set his jaw. "Again."_

_Another needle followed the last, each making Sam feel heavier and heavier as he began to feel the dissociative effects of the concocted drug."_

_"It's only going to get worse, 1249." The Director pulled the metal trolley closer. "This...these drugs...they're only just the beginning of what we have in store for you so choose your next words carefully...Where. Is. 4561?"_

_"Screw..." Sam breathed heavily. "...You."_

_"Fine...we tried to be nice." The Director turned to the nurse. "Get him prepped."_

_The restraints were removed from his wrists, stomach and ankles before he was carelessly pulled from the chair and walked through into the adjoining room. Thrown down into the center of the floor, the nurse set about restraining him once again. Pushed to a kneel, Sam was bound calf to thigh with thick, heavy leather bands, before his hands were tied behind his back too._

_They had positioned him over a drain in the floor, something that made Sam immediately tense._

_The nurse gripped him tightly by the chin as she walked round to stand in front of him before pulling his head up. With a length of plastic tubing in one hand, she stabbed her fingers into the pressure points in his jaw causing it to open. As soon as it did in reflex, she stuffed the tube down his throat, not caring about the blood that soon began to trickle as the harsh, rough plastic cut up his gums and throat on its way down._

_Sam gagged around the tube that was filling him up, eyes watering as he began to sob, the pain becoming too much, even though he knew it was only the beginning._

_Once she was obviously happy with the positioning of the tube, the nurse grabbed a medicine bottle and walked back over to him. Stuffing a small funnel into the end of the tube she administered the medicine directly down it before removing the funnel and ripping it from his throat in one fluid motion._

_Sam cried out as did, whimpering as tears flowed down his cheeks as he was sure the medicine was just going to immediately rise back out._

_The nurse clamped a hand over his mouth, keeping it closed until the nausea had passed before she walked over to the door and knocked on it twice._

_Two orderlies entered the room. Approaching Sam, they removed the ties on his wrists before beginning to shove something else onto him._

_Sam furrowed an eyebrow for a second before realising what the thing was. He tried to wrestle free of their hold, but it was hopeless._

_Each with a tight grip of one of Sam's arms, the orderlies fed his arms through the sleeves of the straitjacket before pulling tight, so that his arms were pulled against his chest, and fastening everything down at the back._

_With his legs still bound, he could move, so when the orderly delivered a shove with his foot to Sam's sound, he found himself falling abruptly and harshly against the floor of the treatment room._

_"Just wait..." The Director's voice flooded the room. "...Let's see if you'll remain silent regarding 4561 for much longer."_

_In a matter of seconds, Sam was retching before he violently threw up into the drain on the floor. The sickness continued and continued and continued for what seemed like an eternity._

_"Guh..." Sam moaned, eyes fluttering as he pressed his cheek against the floor, trying to leach the cold from the cool tile._

_"Designed to purify you of any toxins in your body. It does this by making you expel every single molecule of anything in your stomach. Ingenious, inexpensive, and effective." The Director grinned. "And you will be thrilled to know that there are many more rounds to go yet, 1249."_

_And with that, Sam lost consciousness._

* * *

_The electronic gate at the end of the hallway sounded._

_Jess' ears pricked up in seconds, rising to her feet and standing flat back against the wall near the bars of the cell as she tried to get a view of her friend._

_Footsteps became louder, including the sound of something being dragged._

_Someone._

_Jess tried not to expressively respond as Sam came into view, legs traipsing limply along the tile floor, held upright only by the two guards._

_They threw him mercilessly down onto the stone floor before slamming the cell door closed again and walking off. The buzz of the lock was her cue that they were gone._

_"Shit!" Jess cursed, throwing herself down next to him. "Sam! Sam!" She shook him gently by the arm. "Oh god, oh god..."_

_There was no blood. No cuts. No bruises. No wounds. Nothing. Just a whole bunch of puncture marks in both arms, and Sam, vacant and clearly not home._

_"Oh sweetie, what did they do to you?" Jess struggled to lift the boy's tall frame up enough to rest him back down across her lap but she eventually managed it after a few attempts. Stroking a hand comfortingly, there was nothing she could do but make sure he knew she was with him._

_"It's okay, sweetie. I'm right here. I'm right here, Sam...Sam...Sam!...Sam!" Jess' voice turned from a natural tone to a shout._

Sam felt himself floating before he gasped awake, bolting upright.

"No!" He screamed. "No, please! Please! No more!...No more!" Sam broke down in a heartbreakingly desperate sob as he fought the hands hovering over him.

"Sam, it's me. It's Cas...Just breathe. Breathe through it. You're safe, we're both safe."

"No...No!"

"Sam, look at me." The voice instructed softly. "Can you look at me please, Sam?"

Sam twisted his head to the side, pressing it deep into the pillow below his head as he tried to evade the orderly. "No..."

"Woah, what are you doing?!" Another voice exclaimed.

Items of clothing were thrown past his eyes before he felt...feathers. Soft, fluffy feathers touching his arms.

Sam blinked before his gaze fell to the source of the voice.

"That's it...that's it, Sam, I'm right here." It was Cas and he was smiling gently. "I'm right here...Can I hold you?"

He nodded weakly.

"Thank you." Cas shuffled back against the headboard, freeing his wings further and using them to wrap around Sam and pull him closer, before enveloping him in them.

Sam huddled closer, hand coming to rest on his right wing, his fingers following the stems of his feathers as his breathing settled.

Dean's eyes were wide in confusion as he took in the sight of the kid's black feathered wings.

"What the hell?" He muttered under his breath.


End file.
